


Our fears

by CMDAK



Series: His, mine and maybe ours [5]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Drunk!James, F/M, M/M, Possessive James Bond, Protective James Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-15
Updated: 2015-04-17
Packaged: 2018-03-23 01:50:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3750442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CMDAK/pseuds/CMDAK
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If done right, a horror movie can affect even someone who knows how the effects are done while even the toughest agent can get scared if he thinks the most important thing in the world that he has left is in danger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The original prompt was "I’m scared to walk home in the dark and its really late so i called a random number and got you au" by broomstiks, but by the time I got finished with it, the only thing from the prompt that was left was the "I'm scared" part. 
> 
> As usual, please excuse any and all mistakes.

He was too old to be scared and he had worked with too many effect programs to allow himself even for just a second to believe that the monster he was seeing was real. All he could see was a bunch a very well done effects and make up tricks on a very good and very elastic actress. If he flinched now and then, it was because jumps scares were involved which was cheating.

 

Eve, however, managed to engross herself so much in the movie that she almost ruined his sofa pillow and, at one point, she had gotten so scared that she ditched the pillow in favor of squeezing the life out of him. “This doesn’t leave these walls, Q,” she had whispered in his ear before the ghost-woman appeared on the screen again and she ducked her head in his hair.

 

Funnily enough, the scary movie night had been her idea. She actually insisted on it, Q finally agreeing to it only because her attempt at a pout managed to scare his minions so much that they either froze or dropped what they were carrying – which led to the delay of one optical orientated device, thank you oh so much Eve and your medusa-like stare.

 

“Next time we should settle for some Star Trek or Star Wars or maybe even Doctor Who,” Q said casually, rolling his eyes when he felt her nails dig in his shoulders at the horrific noise the movie creature was letting out of its crushed windpipes. “Then again, you might end up having nightmares because of how some of those aliens look.”

 

She should have watched it with the guy she likes, Q decided once the credits were rolling and she was nursing a glass of whiskey to relax her tense muscles. But when he asked her why she hadn’t done that, she started to laugh.

 

“I am sorry if I annoyed you with how easily I get scared of nonexistent, Q,” she honestly apologized after her laughing fit had passed. “I shan’t bother you with my presence and horror movies in the future.”

 

“Ah, no, no, you really didn’t,” Q quickly reassured her, rubbing the back of his neck and looking away embarrassed. James had been right when he had said that sometimes it was impossible for Q to talk with someone without making it sound like he was insulting them, their abilities or their plans. “It’s just that, if we take into account how close we sat one to another, it seemed like this was the perfect make-out movie.”

 

Eve hiding her head the pillow, trying to stop her laughter and Q groaned and hid his face into the pillow, trying to figure out a way to open his mouth without sounding like he was a teenager awkwardly hitting on her or like James Bond picking up someone at the movies. Actually, if he thought a bit about it, that sounded like the exact type of lame line he would use.

 

“Would you mind sharing the joke with me, Q?” Eve asked, poking his side. “And I hope James is not the one giving you advice on how to pick up women because trust me, he will give you the worse possible advice. He will do everything in his power to make sure that you do not go home with anyone.”

 

Shaking his head only to start laughing even more, he rolled on his side and tried to explain that he had imagined James using the line and actually getting a soda dumped on his head, but only managed to wheeze out the agent’s name over and over again.

 

Not a minute later and the agent was pounding at the door, demanding to be let in and asking Q if he was alright and alone and why was he crying. Eve was quick to let him in, afraid that the man would shoot the door off its hinges.

 

“Q, status report,” James demanded, gun pointed at Eve, eyes darting around the apartment in search for hostile forces.

 

Q appeared from the living room, phone in hand and looking very much surprised. Which he honestly was since had hadn’t received any sort of text informing him of the agent’s return and if Eve’s equally surprised face was any indication, neither did she. “Everything is okay, 007. You can lower the gun. It’s just me and Moneypenny.”

 

Sighing in relief, the older man instantly relaxed and rested against the wall, nodding when Eve softly patted his back. “I thought you were being tortured.”

 

“Only with a horrible horror movie and her sharp nails,” Q mumbled, pushing his glasses up his nose and taking the gun from Bond, giving it a quick check. “Good to have you back and see that my gun is still in one piece, agent. I am astonished to see that indeed, miracles do happen and not just on Christmas.”

 

Starting to tap her foot after putting her phone away, Eve rested her hands on her hips and started to glare at the older man. “Why haven’t you checked in yet, James?” She asked, almost grabbing his ear when he grinned – though there was something very off about his grin in Q’s opinion – and shrugged. “I am to take you over to MI6 and personally check you in.” She turned around and smiled at Q, ruffling his hair. “Thank you for being a great pillow, Quartermaster.”

 

He slowly shook his head as he watch them both disappear, Eve continuing to scold James for not following the proper procedure. The relationship between the two was a very peculiar one. Eve admitted sheepishly that she still had a small crush on the man, even though she knew his feelings towards her were friendship at best. But if Q was asked for his opinion, he’d say that Bond saw something a bit more than a friend in Eve since he had seen the other man threaten other MI6 employees to break their hands if they kept on insisting he do something he did not want.

 

Glancing at the digital clock, Q decided that he still had time to tinker with a few firewalls and traps which he wanted to add to the ones he already used for MI6’s internal servers. You could never have too much protection around the information of people who risked their lives for the good of the country.

 

In all honestly, Silva’s hacking him back had dealt a serious blow to his ego and served him with an extra dish of paranoia when it came to protecting the servers against hackers. It just felt right to come up with constant new ways to keep hackers out and he had various minions build their own firewalls and ‘traps’with which he littered the internal world of MI6.

 

The trickier part was to make sure that all the different programs, created by different people, did not cancel each other out. Harder still was his attempt to create a firewall that had a Trojan incorporated in it which activated and infected the hacker that attempted to enter their servers, giving them instant access to his identity while at the same time digitally crippling him. The first time he had tested that idea, the Trojan part malfunctioned and attacked the servers used for testing and devastated it.

 

When he felt his eyes actually starting to water, Q decided that he had worked enough and proceeded to shut everything off. He changed for bed and made sure everything was secured before collapsing in his bed. And that was when his treacherous mind turned against him and made every little noise sounds ominous.

 

But he wasn’t scared, Q insisted. It was ridiculous to be scared of a green screen effect. He was too old to believe in such things. And the movie, if you thought long and hard on it, did not really make any logic. Was there really a way to get rid of the ghost? How didn’t the police catch wind of the existence of such a maleficent being seeing that she had killed so many people in so many gruesome ways?

 

And then a door that he knew he had closed screeched in his apartment and Q remembered that he still had Bond’s jacket and it was very rude of him to hold on to it for so long. He had dry cleaned it and, thankfully, left it hanging on the outside of the closet. And no, he most definitely wasn’t thinking that something very undead might drag him under his clothes and twist every bone in his body. It just saved him the hassle of blindly feeling around for it because he forgot his glasses on the bedside table and he was sure he hadn’t let his blankets like that.

 

He also climbed two stairs at a time with the jacket tightly clutched at his chest not because he was scared out of his wits and imagined a Japanese woman crawling up on the stairs after him, but because he was chilly and because he couldn’t see too well. It hadn’t been is brightest idea to leave his apartment without his glasses and just a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. At least he had grabbed his phones.

 

As he knocked on the door, Q realized that he wasn’t sure if James had actually returned home from MI6 or not. He waited a bit before knocking again and then, deciding that if no one was there, he would turn around and think up of another way to avoid having to go back to his apartment.

 

The door was pulled open with an amount of unnecessary force and Q was quite proud of himself for not jumping. “Ah, the little mouse, who else?” A woman said and the young man narrowed his eyes, trying to see her. “Here to complain about the noise?” Oh, she must be the blow horn he had threatened a few months ago, Q’s mind supplied for him even though it was kind of hard to tell because she wasn’t grunting, moaning and screaming James’ name.

 

Another figure appeared behind the woman, whose outline Q immediately recognized as belonging to James. “I brought your jacket back.” He said simply and held it in front of him, letting out a small squeak when the agent’s hand shot out and pulled him into the apartment.

 

“I was right the call him a small rodent,” the woman said, laughing and _maybe_ flinching at the growl that came from James. “Oh, touched a sore spot, I see. I’ll leave you with your precious little lab rat, then.” She stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door shut.

 

Well, that had been extremely awkward. “I’m sorry, I just remembered that I had your jacket and I was afraid that I’d forget to give it to you again if I didn’t do it now,” Q said slowly, trying to get a good look of James’ face and see if he was in any kind of immediate danger for ruining the agent’s night. It was only when he moved his head closer that he smelled the distinct ooze of alcohol and he took a step back unconsciously.

 

“It’s okay, thank you,” James muttered, taking the jacket from Q’s hands and throwing it somewhere behind him. “It ended before it started anyway, so all you did was save the both of us from having a very unpleasant conversation.”

 

Q found himself being led to the bedroom, James holding on his hand a bit too tight. This time he wasn’t lying to himself when he said that he wasn’t afraid. But he was worried, his gut telling him that something bad had happened, although he didn’t know if it happened during the mission or during his ‘date’ with the woman.

 

James was quick to change the sheets, guiding Q under the covers before the young man could gather his wits and protests, suddenly realizing just how ridiculous of fears had been. “Don’t think so much, Q. Close those pretty little green eyes of yours and go to sleep.”

 

“You’re drunk.”

 

“And you got scared of a silly little movie and ran to me, so I guess we’re both Captain Obvious and we both lack the ability to think straight at this hour.” He grabbed Q’s arm and kept the younger man from bolting out of the bed. “I went too far. I’m sorry, please stay. I can’t think straight right now. Let’s just sleep, okay?” He released Q and watched him carefully, relaxing when the young man got back under the covers.

 

Sleep was the furthest thing from Q’s mind, chewing on his lips and trying to decide if he should push and ask what had happened, wait to go into work and check the Q-branch recordings or go to sleep and pretend that nothing had happened. Of course, his curiosity got the best of him and when he was sure that James had fallen asleep, he reached for one of his phones, dead set on finding out what had happened.

 

The agent’s hand rested on top of his, scaring him. “The ear wig got trashed and I ended up almost beating a man to death because he asked me if I’d screwed the ‘willowy boy with the hipster glasses that whispers in my ear’ yet or not.” He retreated his hand and turned with his back to Q, sighing.

 

“I don’t have hipster glasses,” Q mumbled out, trying to lighten up the mood. “And the man is not dead, although I think that bothers you more than it would have if he were.”

 

“He’ll walk with a limp for the rest of life, or so I have been told. But you are missing the point, Q! He knew how you looked like. No one is supposed to know what the quartermaster of MI6 looks like unless they work for MI6.” James shouted, still not facing Q. “Of course I’d go straight here when I found out you weren’t at HQ and I almost shot Eve because I heard you call my name while, I assumed, crying.”

 

“M will assign a security detail and…”

 

“I’ll have you moved to a safe house and I will be your security detail until we figure out who the MI6 mole is.”

 

“That will only make the mole go into hiding and we learn nothing. We have to act like we know absolutely nothing. I imagine that no one but you, me and M knows this right now so we have the upper hand in all of this.” Q insisted and rested his hands against the agent’s back. “And wait, you brought a woman over after you find out I’ve been compromised?”

 

James sat up instantly and moved to lean over Q, stunning him. “She’s MI5, she’s clear; she doesn’t know who you are.” He started to whisper, his heart beat increasing as if just not he realized that he had put Q in more danger. “I’d never do anything to hurt you or put you in danger. I won’t watch you die in my arms and I won’t read a report or hear from a new Q that you died.”

 

Ever so slowly, Q wrapped his arms around James and held him close, realizing that the agent was shaking with anger. “I trust you. I believe you. If you say she’s in the green, then she is in the green and I am safe.”

 

They sat like that for a while, James basking in Q’s warmth and Q in his before the other man reluctantly rolled away. It was only then that a little light bulb lit above the Quartermaster’s head and he started to question just what type of relationship they had.

 

He had assumed that James acted the way he did because of Skyfall and because the title of Q had been one of the last things the old M had done before she died. Maybe he was reading everything wrong, but he still had to be sure. “Why was she upset with you? The woman, I mean.”

 

The agent waited quite a bit before answering, the man’s voice pulling Q out of the early stages of sleep. “That tends to happen when you use the wrong name, Q. Especially if your bed partner thinks and hopes that the relationship evolved from casual sex to something else.”

 

“I’m…sorry, James.” He patted around the top of the covers until he found his hand, moving a bit closer to him. Suddenly, the possibility of a horrible disfigured ghost peeking at him from under his covers wasn’t as terrifying as having the other man pull away. “Was it…” He trailed off, but James knew what he had wanted to ask.

 

“Yes. I can sleep on the sofa if you want.”

 

“No!” Q said quickly and pushed himself closer to the agent, eyes closed tightly. “Well, unless you want to. But I am fine like this. We need to talk when you’re fully sober, but right now is okay. We’re okay.”

 

Before he knew what was happening, Q found himself cocooned in James’ arms, the other man entangling their legs together. He felt completely safe, like nothing could get to him and he finally released a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

 

He awkwardly kissed James’ chin before he could change his mind, happy that it was too dark for the other man to notice just how red he had gone. The hug tightened and James rubbed his nose against Q’s forehead, both of them drifting to a light sleep wishing that time would come to a full stop.


	2. Our morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy and please pardon any and all mistakes.

 He woke up feeling surprisingly relaxed and in a good disposition. Yes, he felt as if there was a drill going through his brain, but he didn’t feel like he wanted to be dead. And for that, he blamed the pleasant dream he had the previous night. He flexed his fingers, remembering how real Q’s hair had felt in his mind and he smiled, rolling on the other side of the bed which was still warm.

 

He knew he had picked up Lana as soon as he had been done with MI6 and the two proceeded to drink and enjoy themselves. But his memories kept jumping from Lana’s offended face to Q’s peaceful sleeping on and he couldn’t understand why. For that matter, he couldn’t understand why he heard Lana slowly making her way back to the bedroom and not to the door. The woman never stayed this much in the morning.

 

Lana worked for MI5, a field agent herself who posed as a secretary. She was, perhaps, his least favorite from his so called black book because she was so clingy although she swore up and down that she wanted nothing more than sex from him and that she wasn’t interested in pursuing any form of relationship. And while he made no attempt to hide the other women from her, she was always dead set on throwing near-fits whenever she found something feminine that didn’t belong to her in his apartment.

 

Maybe he was cruel for still continuing their unhealthy and nonexistent relationship, but many times it was she who came to him. Last night hadn’t been any different and he was to tense and too much in need of a good shag to care. They had come back to his apartment, she going on straight there while he stopped to listen in on Q and make sure he was safe, coming back up to be on the receiving end of her scowl only after he’d heard the man typing and moving his cup around.

 

He remembered starting to make out with her and then a sharp pain across his face. Then his brain simply switched to Q in his arms and his nose in his hair. Any attempts at figuring out how that dream happened and why Lana was still there only brought on a bigger headache and the pain was slowly starting to eat away at his good disposition.

 

“As far as I could tell, these are paracetamol pills. But I would feel better if you looked at them again before taking them.”

 

Hearing Q’s voice made his instantly open his eyes and when he saw how close the man was and the state of the undress he was in, he jumped back so much that he fell out of the bed. The covers went down with him and Q almost came along with them, but he had been fast enough to jump back.

 

“You’re not Lana,” was the first coherent sentence that left his mouth without, of course, actually consulting his brain. Q carefully put down the glass of water and pills on the bedside table and then proceeded to make his way over to where James still laid.

 

“I imagine that is the name of the woman who kept referring to me as a mouse.” Q sat down on the bed and caressed James’ face, scratching him lightly with the fingernails. “I applaud your eyes for still being good enough to tell the difference between a well-endowed woman and a very skinny male even at your advanced age, Bond.”

 

“Too skinny,” James grumbled and got up from the floor, throwing himself on the bed and crawling close to Q on whose legs he rested his head. He remembered a time when he’d been used as a pillow by that certain someone. He understood now why sitting like this was so pleasant and when Q started to run his fingers through his hair, he felt like his headache was completely gone.

 

“I woke up about an hour ago and thought about everything,” Q said softly. “In hindsight, I might need a new pair of glasses since I am apparently still blind as a bat.” He ducked his head and placed a light kiss on Bond’s temple. “But we still need to talk about this, whatever it is.”

 

Grabbing Q’s hand and bringing it to his lips, James let his thoughts take over him. He wasn’t sure himself how a relationship would work out between them both in the real life. Whenever he allowed himself to imagine things, late at night, there was a world where only he and Q existed and no one else. No MI6, no drowned ghost that clung to him and tripped him whenever he attempted to have a relationship, no over the top villains to shot the persons to whom he bestowed the pieces of his hear that he had left.

 

“If you want to simply shag, I have nothing against you using me over and over again.” He allowed a grin to spread on his lips, slipping back in his armor just for a moment. “I did present you with this offer, but you mistook it for me offering you access to hookers.” But even if the other man would send him away after that, he’d still hoover somewhere in Q’s shadow, watching over him, making sure no one got to him and hurt him.

 

The reply he got to the joke was Q’s hands over his mouth, forehead resting against his. It wasn’t his fault, or at least that was what the MI6 psychiatrist said. All double oh agents lost the ability to love in the real sense of the word because their jobs involved tricking others into falling into love with them and then betraying them. It was only natural for them to expect to be treated the same way in return sometime in the future, so to prevent that, most of them build walls around their hearts or hide behind innuendos. It was in the doctor’s opinion that regular double oh agents could, at best, form strong attachments to other people in their line of work.

 

“When it comes to me using you, I am quite satisfied with the quartermaster using the agent as a gun. I had a little more in mind when it came to the human side of both of us.” He ran his finger down James’ face, “007 could screw everyone on all the continents as far as I am concerned. The Quartermaster doesn’t care as long as the gun comes back safe and sound. But you, Mister Bond, you I do not want to share.”

 

James wrapped his arms around Q’s middle and used his force to switch their positions, pinning the younger man under him “We both have double personalities…I don’t think the psychiatrist would be too happy to hear that.” He brushed his lips against Q’s, chuckling when the man wrapped his elegant arms around his neck and pushed his face closer to him, kissing him hungrily. “Don’t worry; I don’t plan on letting you out of my sight or bed when I’m not on missions.” They kissed again, Bond slipping his hands under the man’s t-shirts.

 

It was clear from the start that their relationship would be a strange one, a twisted version of monogamy if they chose to ignore what and whom Bond had to do. But the older man had decided that, should Q ever become bothered by his shameless whoring while on the job, he’d either find a way to get around screwing his marks. He was sure Q wouldn’t agree for him to leave MI6 so he refused to even think of that. Q was Q he wasn’t _her_.

 

One of Q’s phones started to ring in the background, but when he breathed out that it was his personal one, James started kissing him harder. If it was his private phone, whoever it was could call back and since Q’s legs wrapped around his middle, Bond was pretty sure that he was in agreement.

 

His own phone started to call and he simply slapped it off the bedside table, moving on to Q’s neck. He planned on showing the other man what kind of ‘spots’ he imagined whenever he saw him, sucking on his Adam’s apple. Let everyone know that Q was taken and if any of the minions or anyone else had anything against him putting his mark where everyone could see, he’d fight them all and learn to live in a cardboard box – if Q’s loyal minions were involved in a revenge scheme, there was always a high possibility of that happening.

 

A noise alerted James that someone was in the apartment and he sprang into action right before the door was opened. He jumped out of the bed, pushing Q down next to his dresser and pulling a gun out from under it, opening the dresser’s door to use as a shield while completely covering Q’s body with his. His plan was to let the dresser’s door take most of the bullets – he had them modified to be bullet proof since he kept that dresser next to a window no matter what new apartment he bought – and then strategically try to shoot the intruders in the head.

 

“Bond, Q’s not in his…” The panic disappeared instantly off of the other man’s face, Moneypenny doubling over with laughter, holding her stomach. “007, would you mind terribly explain to me why there is a half-naked quartermaster behind you?”

 

Putting the gun back under the dresser, James got up, Q hiding behind him harder now, cussing under his breath. “Tanner, just how long have you been exiled to the sofa by your lovely and fearsome wife for losing at poker that you have to ask such a ridiculous question?” He didn’t flinch when Q pinched his side, just rested his hands on top of the younger man’s to stop any further attempts at that sort of punishment. “Well, when two people want to shag, they—“

 

“007, shut up this instant unless you want a toothpick as your only weapon in the next five missions!” Q raised his voice, sinking his teeth in James’ shoulder, Eve laughing even harder.

 

Tanner looked completely baffled, his mouth opening and closing with no real words forming, his arms waving around uselessly in front of him. Bond continued to shield Q from their view as he turned around and pulled a blanket down from the dresser, draping it around him before walking to fish out his phone from where he had slapped it.

 

“You are interrupting us, so make it quick.”

 

But Tanner ignored him completely, choosing instead to focus on Q. “I thought Miss Moneypenny was simply pulling my leg!” The man started, resting his hands over Q’s shoulder while Bond watched the exchange between the two with a lot of interest. Just what sort of relationship did the two men have?

 

“The agent told you to make it quick. This isn’t quick,” Q said, sounding beyond embarrassed and refusing to look the other man in the face. “And I’m legal, I can do whatever I want and with whomever I want,” he grumbled not unlike a teenager who had been caught with his pants down by his father and since Bond saw absolutely no physical resemblance between the two, that couldn’t be the right relationship..

 

“With James bloody Bond?” The other shouted, rubbing his face furiously.

 

“Bill, this isn’t professional,” Eve said, finally managing to get her laughter back under control.

 

“Professional? I don’t care about being professional right this moment, Miss Moneypenny,” the man continued to shout, Bond moving between him and the flustered Q. “Q might be in danger and Bond is busy manhandling my—“ And there was that blasted half of information curse that seemed to involve anything and everything about Q.

 

“No one was being manhandled,” Q spoke up in his quartermaster voice, frowning and trying to cross his hands over his chest without losing the covers. “I assume that was you on my personal phone so you are here on unofficial business anyway.”

 

Tanner tilted his head and tried to glare behind Bond at Q, but the agent moved again and blocked him. “M called Miss Moneypenny and I in his office and told us what 007 had revealed to him yesterday: an enemy operative knew what our quartermaster looked like.” The man sat down on the bed massaging his temples. “He said we should act like we knew nothing.”

 

“A plan I agree with and fully support,” Q said from behind Bond, blinking when Eve’s hand appeared with his glasses in it. “Ah, thank you. I was beginning to get a headache because I didn’t have these.” He put them on and cleared his throat, Bond blocking the woman’s attempt at ruffling Q’s hair.

 

“When I called you and you didn’t answer… Miss Moneypenny agreed to be my backup, should one be needed.” Tanner started talking again, leaning back a bit only to jump out of the bed when he realized where he had sat down.

 

“You interrupted us before we could do anything, so you can relax,” Bond offered, getting a slap over the shoulder as thanks from Q.

 

“You went to my apartment, saw it empty, saw my glasses and you assumed the worse. Well, as you saw, James was taking care of me.” Q finished for Tanner, sighing in frustration. “You were bloody fast.”

 

“I called both of your phones at least twenty minutes ago.” Tanner groaned and hid his face in his hands, muttering about how he really did not need to hear that from him out of all people and since when was 007 James for Q? “I still think you should go to a safe house, Q.” He pulled out his phone and pushed it in his direction. “Call M and tell him you want to go off the grid until everything gets settled.”

 

“And I think I shan’t. James had a similar idea last night, but in his defense, he was drunk.” Q was quick to raise his hand and keep Tanner from saying anything. “We need to catch the mole and in order to do that we need to act like we’re completely in the dark about his or hers existence. For once, James’ inability to take proper care of what he is given paid off and no one heard the exchange between the two.”

 

This was not his day, Tanner decided. He didn’t try to push the subject further, knowing full well that once Q set his mind to something, the Queen herself wouldn’t be able to change it. That had landed him in MI6 in the first place. And 007 seemed dead set on acting as the man’s shield, so he guessed that Q was in sort-of safe hands.

 

 “Can you at least not call him ‘James’ like that?” Tanner almost begged and Bond snorted, the agent raising his eyebrow at the glare the received in return from Q’s apparent parent. He really needed to find out what the deal was with these two.

 

“Can you remove yourself from this room before we decide to ignore you and carry on?” Q asked, sounding bold despite the redness of his face. “I doubt _James_ would mind if we had an audience and Moneypenny strikes me as the type of woman who knows no shame.”

 

“Hey, I know shame,” she defended herself quickly, arms on her hips.

 

“You know shame and you’ll trust M’s plan. I will have an easy sleep tonight now that I know all of that useless information. Now you can both get the hell out of my apartment.”

 

Tanner glared at Bond while Eve led him away, his face clearly indicating that he wasn’t done with him and that he wanted to have a private conversation sometime in the near future, preferably away from Q’s hearing range. And it looked like the type of conversation he had with certain people before they attempted to shot him.

 

As soon as the two were left alone, James attacked Q’s mouth, the younger man grabbing on to his neck and wrapping his legs around James’ waist. They both planed on carrying exactly where they had left off, James throwing himself down on the bed with Q on top of him. James' hands finally made their way down to Q's boxers and just as things were getting interesting, the young man's phone went off.

 

"Ignore it, it will stop, “James muttered against Q’s neck, grunting when he was ignored and the other man crawled out from under him. Really, all technology hated him. Every bloody phone that went off just when things were getting interesting must be getting revenge for tech he had destroyed while on mission. Q, Q with his brilliant and wonderful mind must have accidentally made every machine sentient and everything was exacting vengeance on him.

 

"It’s my work phone. “Q explained and frowned, clearly not pleased with the text he had received. "M called me in. It probably has something to do with the pest problem.” He pursed his lips and tried not to look disappointed and mildly annoyed at everything, but he failed. “I need to get ready for work in this case.”

 

"I’ll lock him in a room full of hungry rats when I get my hands on him, right after gauging his eyes out.“ James continued to grumble even as he got up from the bed and fished out a suit out of the closet, following Q down to his apartment. Of course he was going to make sure Q got to work in one piece. He wasn’t foolish enough to believe that things were magically going to turn into a fairy tale ending. He had done that in the past. He had let his guard down and he ended up burying so many of his loved ones.

 

Q stopped just in front of the door and pulled Bond by his shirt, giving him a quick kiss. "Don’t get so worked up, James. High blood pressure at your age definitely isn’t healthy.”

 

"If we had the time and if you were fully safe, I’d give you lots of reasons to never joke about how old I am.“ All he had to do was make sure that the past didn’t repeat itself again, keep Q away from the same faith the others had met. And that was, perhaps, harder than keeping England from falling to its knees.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much for reading <3


End file.
